


Closest

by brilligspoons



Series: Close, Closer, Closest [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, F/F, Fluff, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:50:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6268483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilligspoons/pseuds/brilligspoons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cosette is not a hallucination, as previously thought, and it all works out in the end for Eponine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [within_a_dream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/gifts).



The girl's name is Euphrasie, "But please call me Cosette," she says as Grantaire sets a mug of tea in front of her.

Eponine has barely said a word since Grantaire had rushed into her room only moments after her scream. Honestly, she's not entirely sure what she wants to say in the first place, and past experience makes her wonder if she'll be able to speak freely at all. She decides to test it.

"I'm Eponine," she says, cautiously feeling it out.

"I know," Cosette replies. She takes a dainty sip of tea and smiles warmly at Grantaire, who turns bright red and shoves a mug across the table to Eponine before sitting down himself. "Also, I apologize for charming you this afternoon. I didn't have much time, and I didn't want you to worry about the door stopper but I couldn't risk you making a lot of noise and alarming anyone."

All of her earlier irritation returns in an instant. "Who the hell are you?" Eponine demands. " _What_ the hell are you?"

Cosette's forehead scrunches up. "I'm Cosette. I just told you that. As for what I am, well—what are you willing to believe?"

Eponine opens her mouth to say something like _not a whole lot_ , but stops. "After today," she says, "more than I thought I would."

Cosette smiles and proceeds to explain that she is a _fairy_ , that she'd needed the wedge to hold some sort of extra picky magical doorway open and let her stepfather escape from—and at that point, the story devolves, and Eponine all but loses track of the myriad improbable events that led up to Cosette appearing in her bedroom to return the door stopper. She stares at Cosette, and then Grantaire, who stares back at her for a moment and then reaches into the cabinet next to the table and pulls out a bottle of whisky. She holds out her mug to him without a word, and he obliges her with a generous shot. She takes a sip and idly wishes they'd thought to add the whisky when the tea was still hot.

A finger brushes against Eponine's mug, and steam starts to rise from the contents once again. Cosette does the same to Grantaire's.

"Well," he says after a silent pause, "that's useful."

"Alright, say we're believing all of this," Eponine says. "Why did you need that particular wedge? You could have gotten one from a supply store, or taken one from another store along that row even."

A pretty flush of pink appears across Cosette's cheeks, and Eponine is momentarily stunned by the sight. Grantaire stands up and pats Eponine's shoulder before fleeing from the room, mumbling something about seeing the direction this was headed. Cosette shyly glances at Eponine through her eyelashes.

"I may have wanted an excuse to talk to you," Cosette says. "I, um, should also apologize for tearing your sleeve, for the same reason. That was very rude of me."

"Very rude," Eponine echoes. Cosette's face turns redder, and it finally clicks in Eponine's head. No wonder she hadn't noticed the tear until she'd gone into the alleyway. Heat rushes up her neck. "Oh!"

Cosette traces the rim of her mug.

"I don't suppose fairies meet up for coffee," Eponine says. "Like, as a date."

"Some of us do," Cosette replies in a rush. She ducks her head.

"Would you—"

" _Yes_."

Eponine grins into her mug. A moment later, hands cover hers and pull the mug down. She glances up to find Cosette hovering over the table in front of her, grinning face only an inch or two from her own. Cosette presses a soft kiss to the corner of Eponine's lips.

"Coffee, tomorrow," she says, "before you go to work. Eight?"

"Eight," Eponine agrees, and tugs her back for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic treat, day 3: another photo of a dress from the MFA exhibit on tech fashion (I believe the texture of this one is based on sound waves)!


End file.
